Glitter Baby (Wynette, Texas #3)(53)

When she got home, she slipped inside Fleur’s dark bedroom. Her daughter was asleep. Tenderly she brushed away a long lock of blond hair that curled over her cheek.

Fleur stirred. “Belinda?”

“It’s all right, darling. Go back to sleep.”

“Smelled your perfume,” Fleur murmured, and then she was quiet.

Belinda sat awake for the rest of the night. She’d never been more right about anything than she was about this. Fleur and Jake could become one of Hollywood’s great couples, like Gable and Lombard, or Liz Taylor and Mike Todd. Jake needed a woman who was larger than life, just like him.

The more she thought about it, the more she understood how right this was. Of course Fleur had frozen up during the filming today. She’d been mortified to have everyone watching what should have been their first private moment—the first time she shared herself with him. Once Fleur had worked through that, she’d do the scene brilliantly. But Fleur needed to be intimate with Jake before she could set herself free.

As Belinda smoked one cigarette after another, she wrote a script in her head. The scenario was so simple it was almost transparent. Still, that’s what made it appealing. Wasn’t this Hollywood, where disbelief was suspended every day?

She practiced on a pad of unlined stationery, using handwritten notes Jake had made on Fleur’s script as her guide. The end product wouldn’t bear close scrutiny, but it was good enough. She’d put the rest in place tomorrow.



Fleur spent most of Saturday on horseback, but it didn’t make her forget what had happened. People were depending on her, and she’d failed them. Monday would be even worse. What would she do after the undressing part was over and she had to make love to Jake?

When she got home, she found Belinda sunbathing by the pool. Her mother had to know by now what had happened on Friday, and she braced herself for a cross-examination, but Belinda merely smiled. “I have the most fabulous idea. Cool off with a swim, then let’s both get dressed up and go out to dinner. Just the two of us. Someplace fabulously expensive.”

Fleur had no appetite, but she didn’t want to spend Saturday night wallowing, either. Besides, she and Belinda needed to do something together that didn’t involve work. “I’d like that.”

She changed into her suit, swam for a while, and took a shower. When she came out, Belinda was sitting on the side of her bed waiting for her. Her mother’s blond hair gleamed against her coral knit suit. “I went shopping today,” she said. “Look what I found for you.”

A very short crocheted dress made of oatmeal-colored string lay on the bed along with a flesh-colored slip and a pair of lace panties. No chance of going unnoticed in that. She’d be all legs, and the flesh slip under that wide-open knit would make her look naked. But she couldn’t refuse Belinda’s peace offering. “Thanks. It’s great.”

“And look at these.” Belinda opened a shoebox and pulled out a pair of candy-striped wedged sandals with ribbon ties at the ankles. “This is going to be such fun.”

Fleur got dressed, and, just as she suspected, she was all flesh and legs. Belinda piled her hair on top of her head, fastened big gold hoops in her ears, and added a dab of perfume. Her eyes filled with tears as she gazed at Fleur’s reflection in the mirror. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.”

They went downstairs. Belinda retrieved her purse from the table in the hallway. “Oh…I forgot.” She picked up an envelope. “This is so odd. I found it in the mailbox. It’s addressed to you, but there’s no stamp on it. Someone must have personally delivered it.”

Fleur took the envelope. Only her name was printed on front. She tore it open and pulled out two sheets of white stationery. Untidy handwriting covered the top sheet.

Dear Flower,

It’s after midnight and I can’t see any lights, so I’ll leave this in your mailbox and hope you find it first thing Saturday morning. I have to see you now. Please, Flower, if you care about me, drive up to my place in Morro Bay as soon as you get this. It’ll take you about three hours. Here’s a map. Don’t disappoint me, kiddo. I need you.

Love,

Jake

P.S. Don’t tell anyone about this. Not even Belinda.



Fleur stared at the note. She was supposed to have found this hours ago. What if something horrible had happened? Her heart pounded. He needed her.

“What is it?” Belinda asked.

Fleur stared at the last line. “This is…from Lynn. Something’s wrong. I have to go to her right away.”

“Go where? It’s late.”

“I’ll call you.” She grabbed her purse. As she shot through the house to the garage, she wished he’d left his number so she could call him and tell him she was coming.

All the way to Morro Bay, she tried to figure out what had happened. She wanted to believe he’d finally realized he cared about her, and with each mile, her hopes grew. Maybe Friday’s events had forced him to stop looking at her as a kid sister.

It was after eleven by the time she passed through Morro Bay and found the turnoff marked on the map. The road was deserted, and she drove for almost ten minutes before she saw the mailbox that was her next marker. The steep uphill gravel road was treacherously narrow, with pine and chaparral stretching on both sides. Finally she saw lights.